Silverhelm: A Tale of Two Enemies

I Think I Am Going Soft. Ugh.

We had been running for a long time and had long since left behind the mossy forests of Rauros, coming into the dry fields of wherever on Middle-earth we were. Aragorn, Legolas, and I were fairly well with the nonstop running, but Gimli wasn't taking it well. We had stopped and Aragorn was on the rocks, an ear pressed to the ground. "Their pace is quickened," he said, rising. "They have caught our scent." And on he ran. The tireless elf-feet of Legolas and me followed behind.

Turning around, Legolas said, "Come on, Gimli! We have almost caught them." With that, he followed me and Aragorn.

Behind me, I heard Gimli grumbling: "Three days and night's pursuit... no food, no rest, and no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell!"

I mentally snorted and continued running. We went in single file, Aragorn, then me, then Legolas, and Gimli. After some time, Aragorn stopped between two large rocks. He knelt down in the mud and picked up something that glinted green. Coming closer, I saw it was a mirror of his own cloak's pin, fashioned in the shape of two emerald leaves.

He held it up to show us. "Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall," said the Ranger.

"They may yet be alive," I said, hoping for the best and mentally swearing that I would kill each and every one of those Uruk-Hai if they hurt the tiny little hobbits. Whoa, I'm swearing a lot of things. First killing Legolas, then killing Saruman, then killing these.

"Less than a day ahead of us, come!" Aragorn said, rising again. He and I were off almost instantly, but Legolas paused out of pity for Gimli, who had stumbled and fallen to the ground. I hadn't known he was capable of feeling that particular emotion...

"Come, Gimli!" Legolas called in what he thought was a cheerful voice. "We are gaining on them."

"I'm wasted on cross country," Gimli grumbled. "We dwarves are natural sprinters! Very dangerous over short distances." I mentally snorted again. I had firsthand experience that said no dwarf was good at any kind of running.

In about half an hour, we crested a hill and beheld the sight before us. "Rohan," I said. "Home of the horse-lords." The plains before us were green with waving grass.

"There is something strange at work here," Aragorn said. "Some evil gives speed to these creatures, sets its will against us." Up ahead, I saw Legolas in a stupid pose with his foot upon a rock like some explorer that has discovered a new land, scanning the landscape. "Legolas! What do your elf-eyes see?"

"The Uruks turn northeast," he said. I stepped up beside Legolas. "They're taking the hobbits to Isengard!" I turned and looked up at him, for once not with anger.

"Saruman thinks they have It," I hissed.

"Hush!" he replied. "Saruman might be listening."

Climbing down from where we stood, we made northeast. In other circumstances, I would've been fine with this chase and ceaseless running, but right now, I had newly healed ribs, and they burned with a fire hotter than a dragon's (I should know) every time I took a step. I staggered to a stop, clutching at my side. Since when do I have to stop because of broken ribs? Then again, I haven't broken my ribs before...

Legolas came up behind me. "Are you all right?" he asked, laying a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm fine," I said, shrugging off his hand. I still did not move; my ribs felt like they had been broken again.

"What is it?" he pressed.

"My ribs. They still haven't healed, not completely."

"From when the dragon stepped on you?" asked the Elf. I nodded. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the pain to a corner of my mind where I hid things I didn't want to face. Where I hid dark memories. I ran after Aragorn, who was well ahead of me, leaving Legolas looking after me concernedly.